[b][center][h3][color=orange] Lein [/color][/h3][/center][/b]
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[b][color=orange]Location:[/color][/b] Cae Mayl
[b][color=orange]Interactions:[/color][/b] [@Conscripts]
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	The arrows snapped against the dead mass of the behemoth as it charged against the archer on the stone pillar, thick oozing pus spewing out of its ripped orifices. The few that were too slow and too unfortunate to be in the abomination's path gave a startled bleat cut short by the trampling of their lungs. These things barely reacted to being pelted by arrows - but with the experiences of facing off a muscular tendril monster and an undead champion in the last couple days, the development hardly phased him. If he could not yield a weapon strong enough to knock his prey down, he'll just use something that could; with massive frame swallowing up the distance between them, Lein jumped down in front of the pillar he was standing on. A simple tactic - Lein was officiating an impromptu marriage of a skull and a wall. 

	Lein could almost smell the bitter curse-rot that threatened to plaster him against the white pillar. He bounded away from the pillar at the last possible moment, letting nary a split second flicker by before he swiveled around and measured up another arrow against its forehead. Could never tell with these necromancers' pets if any kind of damage was enough. Impact with the pillar or no, he'll ensure his mark was slain with an arrow through its head.

	As for the rest of the battlefield, the Knights either had their opponents tied up or beat. A couple stray hounds snapped at the periphery, before meeting their own swift ends from Lein's lingering vengeance. So much for the Boars. His initial measure of these mercenaries had more weight now that their forces were being thoroughly ripped apart. All the reputation and debauchery could not buy them an army worth more than a couple kicks. Turns out being evil rarely ever qualified as being competent. Or even creative for that matter - why was it that these assholes so insisted on necromancy? Least the ball assassins had courtesy enough to go to a crypt for that.

	Still! Lein had vented enough of his frustration to crack a smile and a wave as a familiar pair of horns waded their way towards him. [color=orange]"Lovely guests we have, no? They even brought me a present!"[/color] Lein held up a ragged portion of his gloves, still wet from blood and pock-marked with teeth. Bitter about being left out cold he was not. The experience of pummeling curse-hounds was rather cathartic in hindsight.